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Friday, December 27, 2013

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Regular
readers of this blog may be aware that – to put it mildly – I’ve something of
an interest in the Drumclay crannog in Enniskillen [here | here | here | here |
here | here]. So, when the Ulster Archaeology Society announced that they had
booked Dr. Nora Bermingham to deliver their December lecture on that very site,
I was immediately intrigued ... to say the least! By tradition, all UAS lectures are held in the
downstairs lecture hall of the Elmwood Building, at QUB. The last time I was in
this hall was in December 2012, when I was speaking to the Society on the
Middle Bronze Age ritual complex at Gransha, Co. Derry~Londonderry. On that
night we were in the grip of flag-related rioting and you could occasionally
hear the distant sound of police helicopters in the skies and the intermittent scream of a police or ambulance siren. I had all of 30 people in the audience
that night – and was happy to get them![1] But this … this was somewhat
different! The lecture theatre has recently received a complete refurbishment
and looks superb with new seating and state-of-the-art display systems.
However, the main difference was that the space was packed – there was hardly a
spare seat to be found. This site has generated huge interest and media
coverage and expectations were running high.

After an
introduction by the great and wonderful Barrie Hartwell, President of the
Society, Bermingham began by acknowledging the hard work of the site crew and
noting that the site had been funded through the Department of the Environment
and the Department for Regional Development. Turning to the site itself, she
first provided something of the context of crannogs in Ireland generally. These
are artificial (or semi artificial) islands, generally built close to the lake
shore. There is thought to be approximately 2000 crannogs known on the island
of Ireland. Some 141 known or suspected sites lie within the modern county of
Fermanagh. As their distribution is, of necessity, related to lakes, they are
found in the ‘lakiest’ (my term!) parts of the island, i.e. mostly in the midlands and western Ulster. Given their
complexity, and the attendant expense of investigation, not to mention the
logistical difficulties involved in their investigation, very few have been
excavated in recent times. Although not exclusively so, the majority have been
found to be of Early Christian origin. The Drumclay site lies approximately 2km
to the north-east of Enniskillen town in an inter-drumlin lake. It lay close to
the shore, no more than 30m from the nearest land. It has been known about
since the 1835 when it appeared on the Ordnance Survey 6” maps (it also appears
on the 1860 revision) and it was visited by Wakeman in the 1870s (1873, 322).
At that time the lake had been partially drained and he described it as ‘rather
a dangerous swamp’. He also records that he had been informed that a dugout
canoe (‘of the ordinary kind’) had been found in the vicinity and had been
reburied. The process of draining the lake appears to have continued throughout
the late 19th century, eventually leaving the area as a ‘blind’ or seasonal
lake. Certainly, by the 20th century, the area was a difficult-to-access
expanse of swampy ground. Diplomatically skipping ahead to August 2012,
Bermingham noted that the site had been surrounded by ‘rock armour’ as part of
the road stabilisation process. At that time the site measured something in the
order of 30m in diameter, though it eventually proved to be approximately
80-100m in diameter.

Bermingham
proposed that she would present a chronological account of the crannog,
essentially giving the discoveries of the excavation in reverse. Before there was ever a crannog, there was a
shallow lake underlain with deep silts and muds. It was into this material that
numerous poles were driven vertically. This process helped to partially drain
the area and also created a stable working surface. Directly on top of these
poles a series of platforms were created, each made of several overlapping
layers of wood. The chosen wood was chiefly alder (Alnus) and Bermingham noted that this was a wise choice,
demonstrating considerable woodland knowledge, as alder lasts particularly well
in watery environments. Bermingham drew the audience’s attention to the fact
that this material would, most likely, have been sourced locally in the landscape
immediately surrounding the site. She also noted that the quality of the
woodworking displayed on these timbers was extremely basic and devoid of all
niceties – just enough rough working to make the logs fit. This is a recurring
theme among the structural timbers recoded on the site, each receiving only the
bare minimum of working to make any individual piece fit for purpose. When
completed, there were at least eight platforms. There was one, large, central
platform, surrounded by several smaller examples. The smaller examples were
each 10-12m in diameter and all were bounded by low wattle walls. This appears
to have – literally – laid down the foundation for the development of the site,
as each platform appears to only have been used for one building at any given
period and houses were repeatedly built and rebuilt in the same locations over
much of the history of the site. Thus, the format of the site was that of a
large, central house with a number of satellite buildings and/or open areas.
The stratigraphy has yet to be wholly untangled, and it is currently unclear as
to which platforms were built in which order, but the central example was by far
the largest and deepest. Between the platforms and the buildings evidence was
recovered for several pathways that appeared to have been maintained over a
considerable period of time. The evidence indicates that these platforms were
consolidated and reconsolidated time and again throughout the history of the
site, and that the whole was subject to running repairs from the time of its
construction. Throughout, the stratigraphy is extremely complex and difficult
to untangle. There is a partial parallel to this at Cloneygonnell, Co. Cavan,
where Wood-Martin (1886, 197-8, fig. 205) investigated a similarly constructed
platform. However, this earlier example was a single large platform,
approximately 90ft (27.5m) in diameter as opposed to the several smaller tessellated
examples at Drumclay. Bermingham noted that there was a further possible
parallel known from Scotland, but that it lacked the depth of stratigraphy and
the length of occupation. At Drumclay what is not currently known – though this
may become clearer as the post-excavation dating strategy progresses – is how
many of these platforms were occupied at any one time. The central house may
have been a permanent fixture, but how many of the satellite platforms either
housed structures or were left as open areas at any one time is, to say the
least, unclear. In all likelihood there were multiple houses and ancillary
structures in operation simultaneously. The challenge for Bermingham and her
post-ex team is differentiating which ones were contemporary!

Cloneygonnell, Co. Cavan (Wood-Martin 1886, fig. 205)

Bermingham
can ascertain that there were something in the vicinity of thirty houses built
at Drumclay. As previously noted, these were repeatedly built and rebuilt on
the same footprints, though it is currently difficult to ascertain how many
were occupied during any given phase. The house types recorded include
rectangular, round, and figure-of-eight examples. Up until the excavation at
Drumclay the prevailing consensus was that round houses predated rectangular
houses in Early Christian Ireland and that the change between the two occurred
during the 9th to 10th centuries. The possible reasons for this change are
varied and still actively debated, but the chronology appears sound. However,
at Drumclay rectangular houses predate round houses, in some cases by quite
significant periods of time. Bermingham noted Pat Wallace’s theory, based on
his excavations in Viking Dublin, that rectangular houses could be an
indigenous development, as opposed to one imposed or adopted from outside.
Bermingham is hopeful that the unparalleled opportunity for dating and
investigating the genesis of this building tradition can now be investigated in
a depth not previously possible. All of the houses investigated were of
post-and-wattle construction, with double-skinned walls. Entrances were
preserved as were thresholds and door jambs. There was frequent evidence for
internal divisions, but very few of the houses showed evidence for internal
roof supports.

As an
example of the rectangular houses, Bermingham showed images of one that
measured up to 8m long and up to 4m wide. She noted that some houses possessed
a central aisle similar to the ‘triple aisled’ Dublin Type I houses. In a
number of instances, large logs were recovered from the immediate vicinity of
the hearths and may have been utilised as benches. Also near a number of
hearths were slotted beams packed with the remains of smaller posts, similar to
ones recovered at Deer Park Farms. Bermingham speculated that these may have
been used as heat reflectors to direct heat from the fire to other areas of the
house.

One example
of a roundhouse was c. 6m in diameter
and was significantly stratigraphically above (and later than) the previous
rectangular house –by 1-1.5m! The roundhouses appear to have been built to a
similar process, starting with the construction of the walls and the laying out
of the hearth. Roughly hewn timbers were then used to create a log under-floor
around the central hearth. This floor space was subsequently built up. In some
cases this included rough cobbling, though there appears to be evidence that
sod floors were deliberately laid down. Bermingham also noted that the
arrangement of the log under floor and hearth was such that no room was left
for a central post or other internal roof supports. There was also evidence for
one figure-of-eight house, and possibly some traces of a second example. It was
hoped that careful excavation and recording of these structures would indicate
whether these structures were of a single phase of construction or if there was
one initial house with a later addition. Unfortunately, the expansive roots of
a later alder tree obscured and destroyed the vital ‘junction zone’, so that
issue is unlikely to be resolved here. This particular figure-of-eight house
was stratigraphically later than the previously discussed roundhouse, lying
over 1m directly above it. Above this particular collection of houses there was
a layer of made ground, 1m to 2m thick, intended to consolidate the site, which
appeared to be suffering from subsidence at this time. Beyond this time all
habitation appears to have been concentrated on the northern side of the
crannog. With regard to the excavated hearths, Bermingham noted that they could
be divided into two broad categories: either slab-lined or clay-lined. Both
were rich in finds, including bone combs etc.
Again, many bore strong resemblances to those excavated in Viking Dublin.

Bermingham
stressed that the evidence at Drumclay was very different to that from other
sites – including antiquarian accounts and even more recent excavations,
including John Bradley’s investigation of Moynagh Lough crannog – where at any
one phase there was one central house and a small number of out buildings. At
Drumclay there appear to have been several substantial buildings in operation at
any one time.

The
excavation also uncovered a number of workshops. The best one was a rectangular
area on one of the satellite platforms. It was quite different in construction
to other buildings as it had no evidence for wattle walls, being merely defined
by a kerb of logs. This would suggest that these were open areas, as opposed to
enclosed buildings. The most artefact-rich of these areas included three
consecutive smithing hearths, indicating that a coppersmith had been active
here at one point. Lower levels of the workshop indicated that it had
previously been dedicated to carpentry as all the recovered waste related to
woodworking. A second workshop was discovered on the south-east side of the
site, but was not so rich in hearths and associated waste. Bermingham
emphasised that one of the aims of the post-excavation phase would be to
examine just how people organised living in such a wet, cramped space.

Turning to the
finds, Bermingham noted that many were recovered from the south side of the
crannog, indicating that material was being thrown out and away from the site,
out into the lake. Many artefacts were discovered within the houses. In particular,
the association between hearths and recovered items is such that the
traditional explanation of them being casual losses appears unlikely. Instead,
they may be evidence of deliberate foundation deposits, placed at the time of
construction. In all, some 5497 artefacts were recovered from the site. The
range of finds is impressive and includes: amber, antler, animal bones, copper
alloy, glass, gold, iron, leather, pottery, shale/lignite, stone, textile, and
wood. Of these, approximately 3000 were of pottery, making this the finest
collection of crannog ware/Ulster Coarse Ware yet excavated.

Nineteen
examples of shale/lignite bangles were recovered, along with one bead of the
same material; Three amber beads were recovered and are thought – on
stratigraphic and stylistic grounds – to be pre-Viking. The rarity of amber at
this early date is such that it must underline the high status of the
occupants. Only six glass beads were recovered, along with a small number of
bangle fragments. Bermingham noted that in the case of the glass, it is still
unknown whether these were imported as finished objects, or were created on the
site begin – another puzzle that post-excavation research may be able to
resolve.

Some 34
combs, of different types, were recovered during the excavation. These include
a 7th century high backed comb with possible bird-head decoration. Ian Riddler,
the well-known small-finds specialist, identified the combs and has suggested
that this example may be paralleled with finds from Clonmacnoise, Co. Offaly,
and Carraig Aille, Co. Limerick. Bermingham stressed that even with a secure
date for the artefact, there are a number of possibilities in its relationship
to the structure within which it was found. These include the two being contemporary
and the artefact dates the house or it could have been an heirloom,
significantly older than the house within which it was found. Among the
high-status single sided combs is one ‘Auspicious Comb’, dated by Riddler to
the period from 1050 to 1125. This example is 22cm long, and while not the
longest on record is certainly among the higher end of the known range.
Bermingham also noted that this example appeared to have been deliberately
placed in a compartment within the house. The corpus of Drumclay combs also
included a number of double-sided single-piece combs, similar in appearance to
the ‘nit-combs’ still sold today. The majority of these appear to be of Late
Medieval date (post 16th century).

The gold
finger ring was described by Bermingham as being very plain and that, if you
didn’t know its age and origin, you’d consider handing it back to whoever gave
it to you! Four or five pieces of copper alloy wire were recovered from the
site and are less than 1mm in thickness. One of the wooden dishes from the site
was found to have been repaired using just this form of wire. Some 127 copper
alloy dress pins were recovered during the excavation and no two are the same.
Most date to the period from the 7th to 9th centuries, and a number may be
paralleled to finds from Knowth, Co. Meath. Bermingham also showed an image of
a Type 1 pin, dating from the 8th to 9th centuries that may be paralleled with
one from Chris Lynn’s excavations at Deer Park Farms. One stone mould was
recovered during the excavations. It appears to have been for casting silver
ingots, and may be paralleled with finds from significant sites, including
Lagore, Ballinderry, and Knowth. A number of iron objects were also recovered
from the site. These included an iron axe head with a portion of its wooden
handle still surviving. This woodworker’s tool has been dated to the 9th
century. A selection of general purpose iron blades were recovered, some of
which appear to have been deliberately deposited. Two iron spear heads (and the
remains of a possible third) were recovered during the excavation. Bermingham emphasised
that these could as easily have been used for hunting or as weapons of war. The
same can be said of the carpenter’s axe and the general purpose blades – all
could have been used for the most mundane and prosaic of activities, and still
served as weapons in times of trouble.

One of the
fantastic things about wetland sites is the potential for preservation of
wooden objects that simply do not survive elsewhere. In this, Drumclay is no
exception as it produced approximately 1000 wooden finds. Bermingham noted that
this can be put in context by considering that Pat Wallace at Wood Quay in
Dublin, recovered c.600 wooden items,
and the extensive excavations at Coppergate in York produced c.1500. That both of these were
large-scale, urban, excavations as opposed to a single, rural site merely
highlights the importance of Drumclay. To illustrate the diversity of the
recovered artefacts, Bermingham used a slide that simply listed the categories
of the objects:

… well,
that’s as far as I got before my hand cramped! Bermingham noted that the gaming
board and pieces were recovered from the south-western portion of the site, in
the same general location as the unusual amber beads. She wondered if the
discovery of these two forms of prestige items in the same area had any
particular significance. Bermingham displayed an image of one of the carved
vessels from Drumclay, decorated with carved interlace and pokerwork, and
noting that it is an almost exact parallel to one illustrated by Wood-Martin
(1873, 101, fig. 102). Another of the major finds from the site was a cheese
press inscribed with a Greek cross. Bermingham noted that crosses were occasionally
found on leather objects (including one from the Fishamble Street excavations
in Dublin), but this is the first time that one has been found on a wooden
object. She noted that the presence of the cheese press itself indicated the
importance of dairying. There appear to be no Irish parallels, but there is
possibly one known from Oakbank crannog in Scotland. Another potential avenue
for research that Bermingham noted was the Irish tradition of using the
Christian cross as a charm to ward off bad luck in butter and cheese making.
With regard to the wooden spoons, Bermingham mentioned how a number were
recovered from Drumclay, but that they appear to be the only known examples
from Ireland. Bermingham noted that the volume of finds recovered at Drumclay
from secure, well dated, contexts is such that there is now a significant hope
that chronologies for various artefact types will be significantly refined.

In terms of
dating the site, it appears from the artefacts that the site was in some form
of use from the 7th to the 17th centuries. So far, there are five radiocarbon
dates available from low levels within the site, but not the lowest levels. These are: 830-1036 cal
AD; 773-944 cal AD; 709-937 cal AD; 694-888 cal AD; 677-864 cal AD. The
stratigraphy shows that the site was probably intensively inhabited from the
7th to the 10th centuries, but more sporadically inhabited after this point.

Archaeologist Cathy Moore, shows off a remarkable well preserved portion of a wooden keg. Source.

Turning to
the historical context in which the Drumclay crannog was built and used,
Bermingham suggested that it may have been the property of a local vassal king,
though it may have become associated with the church at some stage.
Tantalisingly, she pointed out that in the Irish Life of St Molaise (associated
with nearby Devinish Island) there is a reference to a place called ‘Drumclay’. It is
not yet known if there’s sufficient evidence to link that Drumclay to this
Drumclay … but the possibility is distinctly intriguing! In the Irish Life
Molaise visits the local king and subsequently receives the residence as a
gift, having miraculously saved the place from being consumed in a fire. I
hesitate to suggest it, but perhaps the post excavation research should examine
the archive for evidence of a partial (but not all-devouring) conflagration on
the site … though considering that the saint is believed to have died in 564 AD
and the occupation here didn’t begin until the 7th century, it may be a red
herring!

At this
point, the lecture proper concluded and the discussion was thrown open to the
floor. I have recorded a number of the most pertinent answers (you can work out
the questions!) to give a flavour:

A: All wooden
poles and logs were cut and trimmed with axes – there was no evidence for the
use of saws.

A: In the later levels there is evidence for the use of reeds, straw,
bracken and even sod flooring, but there appear to have been no ‘finished’
floors in the earlier phases.

A: No
evidence for a causeway from the shore to the crannog survived as the site had
suffered truncation along the perimeter.

A: We’re not
sure what types of games were played on the recovered gaming board, but it may
have been related to the Scandinavian game of Hnefatafl.

A: There
was a small amount of evidence for post-16th century occupation, but the site
had been pretty much abandoned by then.

So, there
we have it - A fascinating glimpse into the amazing discoveries at this
remarkable site! In what seemed like a very brief hour and a half, Bermingham
managed to convey some of the wonder of discovery, the complexity of
the remains, and the difficulties of excavating such a well-preserved,
multi-period site. She also drew attention to the potentially vast new insights
that may be gained as a result of this project, not the least of which are
refinements to artefact and architecture chronologies. I should point out that
I had no expectation that Bermingham would (or should) deal with what may be
euphemistically described as the ‘difficulties’ encountered prior to her
appointment as Site Director. Nonetheless, the fact remains that we are still
waiting for the publication of Prof. Gabriel Cooney’s review, ordered by the
(then) Minister for the Environment, Alex Attwood. I am given to understand
that the report has been completed, but has yet to be made public. Until such
time as the report enters the public realm, we are left with no official
account of the planning process behind the selection of the route, the
archaeological advice given, the oversight provided by the NIEA, the actions of
the original site director (and his employers), along with those of the
consultancy who supplied the archaeological labour. From the
currently-available information, it appears that a number of these people have
serious questions to answer about their professional behaviour. I truly look
forward to the eventual monograph that will be the outcome of the Drumclay
excavation. From Dr. Bermingham’s lecture, it is clear that it will be a
landmark publication, with significance for Early Christian/Medieval studies
not just on this island, but across Europe. However, the publication of
Cooney’s report is, arguably, of greater significance as it will potentially
speak to systemic issues within the entire process of archaeological
legislation, oversight, resourcing, and excavation. I look forward to reading
both!

[general] There was
an awful lot to take in during this lecture and I’ve done my best to record the
material as delivered. However, if I have deviated in any significant way from
the topic, or misheard any point, the error is mine alone.Update April 2014: An edited version of this post can be found on pages 8-10 of the Ulster Archaeology Society's [Website | Facebook] Newsletter [here]

Friday, December 13, 2013

Back in November of
2012 I published Archaeological
Excavations at Tullahedy County Tipperary. Neolithic Settlement in NorthMunster: Review. I liked the book an awful lot and was lavish in my praise.
The post came to the attention of the publishers, The Collins Press [Website |
Facebook | Twitter], who were understandably thrilled. They asked me if I’d
like to review another of their archaeology titles and, without fully realising
what I’d signed up to, I said a hearty Yes! – A free archaeology book is a free
archaeology book, after all! At the time, I was unemployed and glad for any archaeology
book I didn’t have to pay for … and I certainly had the time – as a middle aged
man on the dole, there’s only so many hours a day you can spend reading rejection letters
for entry-level positions! Unfortunately, by the time the book arrived, I was
gainfully employed and – I’m sorry to say – this beautiful tome was left to
languish unopened and unloved in my library. To be completely truthful, I’d
largely forgotten about it.

It was, thus, with a
sudden, rising sense of panic that I received an email from the lovely people
at The Collins Press, enquiring as to whether I’d written the review and if
they could have a copy – please. I’m actually slightly horrified to think that
I first met the author of this book over 20 years ago. Billy O’Brien started as
a lecturer at UCG (now NUIG) – I think – the year after I left, so around
1991/92. It has been years since I saw him, but I remember it distinctly. It
was on a very cold, and overcrowded train out of Dublin … sometime before 2002
… he was attempting to make his way up the carriage, carefully negotiating the
throng, when he spotted me. With a long, bony finger he prodded me firmly in
the gut, declaiming loudly in his broad Cork accent: ‘Well, didn’t you get FAT,
bhoy?’ It’s true – there’s no denying it – I’m overweight. I need to lose quite
a bit … OK – I need to lose a lot of weight. I call myself fat all the time.
But, like someone giving out about a family member – it’s fine if I do it, but
if you join in, you’re an asshat! I’m not making myself out to be the good guy
here - I muttered something equally complimentary to him. After exchanging a
few more similar jibes he continued his meander through the serried bodies packing
the train, each of us probably equally relieved to be rid of the other. I give
this one example of the timbre of our relationship over all the time we’ve
known each other – it was ever thus! As I say, I make no pretence to being the
injured party, camped on the cosy moral high ground – I’ve given as good as
I’ve gotten. All the same, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I really wanted
this book to suck – hard!

I’m just going to be
honest here and note that I really tried hard to dislike this book – I tried
and tried, but I just couldn’t. At one point I’d actually given the book away
to the care of another, in the hopes that they could provide the fair and
balanced review that I felt I would be unable to. Unfortunately, fate had other
plans and the book was returned to my care, unloved and unreviewed. As it turns
out, I should have relaxed ages ago and just given in. It’s an excellent book
for everyone from the ‘interested amateur’ up to the ‘serious student’. It’s
not a textbook for the professional – and it makes no claims to be such, but
even the professional archaeologist will find much to enjoy here.

In the Preface, O’Brien
notes the long human presence in what is now the Cork and emphasises the need
for a regional archaeology, attuned to the distinctive evidence preserved in
the county. At times that evidence indicates that the region was going along
with the broad themes of prehistory as seen across the island, but at others
there is evidence for a distinct Cork ‘voice’ where a divergent path was taken.
In Chapter 1: The prehistoric landscape
of Cork, O’Brien sets the scene, with the ubiquitous description of the
physical landscape (If I had a pound (or even a Euro) for every time I’ve read
‘X is a region of contrasting landscapes’ I could retire!), followed by an
excellent introduction to the history of antiquarian and archaeological
research in the county, going from the 1675 sketch of the Labbacallee wedge
tomb, up to the scientific investigations of today. Importantly, he highlights
the role that the amateur archaeologist can play in the important work of
discovery, recording and protection of our ancient sites – an important
service, all too frequently overlooked by the professional archaeologist!

After a brief rumination
on the possibility of Pleistocene (Ice Age) settlement in the area, Chapter 2: The Age of Stone: Early
Foragers and Farmers (7600-2500 BC) gets stuck into the evidence for the
Mesolithic. While highlighting a lack of field research for the paucity of known
sites, he also identifies the sinking coastline as a potential reason why many
sites have disappeared. Essentially, the current coastline only took on its
present form in the period from 3000-1000 BC, undoubtedly leaving much of the
older evidence either drowned, or destroyed. Nonetheless, there is excavated
evidence for Early Mesolithic activity from the county at Kilcummer Lower, and
microliths have been discovered during fieldwalking at several locations in the
Blackwater valley, including Castlebalalgh, Ballynamona, and Lefanta. Recent
excavations, undertaken as part of the NRA programme of road developments, have
also revealed material of Early Mesolithic date at Muckridge 1, Rath-Healy 3,
and Curraghprevin 3. At the last site the evidence is in the form of a small
hearth and three stake-holes, the hearth providing a radiocarbon date of 7330±60
BP (6363-6062 cal BC, Beta-201071) from Scots pine charcoal. The Late
Mesolithic also has a relatively sparse showing in Cork, with the majority of
finds being recovered during fieldwalking. Again, the author pays close
attention to the most recent excavations, including noting the flint flakes and
mudstone axehead recovered from a pit at Caherdrinny 3, along with features at
Gortore 1b, and Curragh Upper. After a brief introduction to the ‘first
farmers’ and the Neolithic in Cork, O’Brien examines the relatively rare Cork
portal tombs. Only two definite examples (Arderrawinny and Ahaglashlin), along
with a putative third (Rostellan), survive in the county, and each is discussed
in a separate case study. Passage tombs are similarly scarce in Cork, with only
two (Killickaforavane and ‘The Lag’, Ringarogy) known from the county. Each is
discussed briefly, but in sufficient depth to provide real flavour of the sites.
This is followed by succinct case studies of a number of the Neolithic houses
known for the county, including Pepperhill, Gortore, and Ballinglanna North 3. O’Brien
follows this up with a brief, but relatively comprehensive, summation on the
introduction of the Neolithic into Cork and how it appears to have lagged
behind the rest of the island. The chapter concludes with a short digression
into the Late Neolithic in general, and Grooved Ware pottery in
particular. Evidence for these
(frequently) line-decorated, flat-based vessels has been recovered from
Ballynacarriga 3, Ballynamona 1, and Coole Upper. This may seem like a fairly
ordinary progression for a chapter on the Neolithic, until you realise that so
much of the evidence O’Brien skilfully marshals to tell the story is from
relatively recent, commercially based, excavations, often as the result of the
road building schemes from the ‘Celtic Tiger’ years. This is significant and
for a number of reasons. Firstly, it illustrates how important the
archaeological discoveries from this ‘golden age’ of Irish archaeology really
are in giving flesh to the prehistory of Cork – and the island as a whole. The
NRA have done a magnificent job in bringing so many of these sites topublication, and disseminating this knowledge to the professional
archaeological world in particular. Now O’Brien takes the next step – bringing
this new material into the wider realm. Non-specialists, those with an interest
in archaeology, the public – call them what you will, but bringing this level
of knowledge to ‘the general reader’ is a massively important step in the chain
and O’Brien is to be commended for doing it so well.

Until reading this
book, I hadn’t realised just how sparse the evidence for the Mesolithic and
Neolithic periods are in Cork. True, the large-scale developments of the last
decade have added significantly to our knowledge, but the fact remains that
Cork is not overly endowed with evidence for these periods. Instead, Cork
really is a Bronze Age county. To some extent, this explains my suspiciously
raised eyebrow when, on scanning the contents list, I saw that three of the
chapters (out of seven) were based around the Bronze Age … four, if you count
the relatively short Copper Age or Chalcolithic as more of a ‘metal’ Age rather
than a ‘stone’ one. In Chapter 3: The Age
of Copper: First Metalworkers (2500-2000 BC), O’Brien plunges directly into
this topic, providing a brief, but enlightening, section on ‘The Earliest
Copper Metalwork in Cork’, before getting to grips with the Ross Island mine.
Although in county Kerry, it is though that this one location supplied all of
the copper needs of the island for approximately 500 years. Considering that
this site was excavated by O’Brien, and is of the highest significance to our
understanding of the Bronze Age in Ireland, he shows admirable restraint in
keeping his synopsis so concise and to the point. This is followed by a general
statement of our knowledge on what is still termed ‘Beaker culture’, and then
an examination of the presence of this distinctive pottery form cross the
county. O’Brien then provides an excellent synopsis of the Wedge Tomb monument
type, examining origins, economy, and society. However, the heart of this
section is his concentration on the excavated tombs, including ‘classics’ like Labbacallee and Island – both excavated by the late M. J. ‘Brian’ O’Kelly – and
relatively recent excavations by O’Brien at Altar and Toormore. In each case
the evidence is briefly presented in engaging, readable style. The chapter is
concluded by an examination of the Early Gold, including the known lunulae and
discs.

In Chapter 4: The Age of Bronze: Settlement and Economy (2000-600 BC)
O’Brien begins with an examination of the metal and metalworking technology in
the Early to Middle Bronze Age. Central to this story is the procurement of the
copper and, as the acknowledged expert on the topic, O’Brien devotes a
considerable amount of text to the subject, especially the Mount Gabriel mines
near Schull. O’Brien then moves on to examine the evidence for the Bronze Age
Houses and Settlements. While the Mount Gabriel mines were investigated as part
of an academic research strategy, the settlement evidence is dominated by eighty
sites discovered through the road, pipeline, and sundry ‘development-led’
projects. Again, O’Brien provides a succinct case study of Ballybrowney Lower1, along with a more general summation of the evidence that includes such sites
as Mitchelstown 1, and Ballynamona 2, etc.
The majority of these settlements were small-scale farmsteads and the section
on Bronze Age Farming attempts to place them in their environmental and
economic contexts, followed by a comprehensive exposition of the Ardgroom
farmscape on the Beara peninsula. It’s a chapter on the Early Bronze Age and it
wouldn’t be complete without a trundle through the evidence for burnt mounds.
It’s also an archaeology of Cork, so it definitely wouldn’t be complete without
a relatively in-depth examination of O’Kelly’s excavations and experimentations
at Ballyvourney 1 which have set the tone for much of the research in the
half-century since. O’Brien stands firmly on the side of these sites being used
as cooking places, arguing that there’s little evidence to suggest other
functions, including tanning, brewing, or metalworking. My personal take on the
phenomenon is that they’re relatively long lived as a site type and are found
in a number of basic combinations and permutations of troughs, pits, and burnt
mound material. My guess is that the only real commonality they share is that
they’re capable of producing large volumes of hot water – what that water may
have been used for is quite another matter, and I think there’s enough variety
in the excavated evidence to support a variety of possible uses. Where I take
issue with O’Brien (and all other purveyors of the term) is in his use of ‘fulacht fiadh’ as a means of describing
these sites [here | here]. I’m the first to agree that ‘burnt mounds’ may not be the most
exact or descriptive term, but I do believe that it is the best currently
available. Quite apart from the fact that the term in Irish would probably have
been utterly unknown to the people who created and used these features, Ó Néill
(2003-2004) has comprehensively demonstrated that the things referred to in
Medieval Irish literary sources by this name are definitely not this form of
archaeological site. I would also suggest that the reader acquaint themselves
with Waddell’s (2008) comments on the topic. If this retrograde nonsense wasn’t
enough, I am kindly informed by a number of sources that the plural form most
commonly used in the profession (‘fulachta
fiadh’) is defunct and should be replaced with the grammatically correct ‘fulachtaí fia’ (which O’Brien uses). I’m
sure that no one will be suddenly swayed from their previously-held convictions
by my scorn and vitriol, so go have fun – call them what you will, but I’ll not
be joining you! As an aside, I would point out that in a rather wonderful
Facebook discussion on this topic, alluded to above, I was informed that the
term ‘fulachts’ (with an Anglicised
plural) has been banned from the publications of the NRA and is seen as
anathema. Probably due to some innate perversity in my soul, on reflection, I’m
utterly charmed by this hybrid term and think it should achieve widespread
adoption. I also realise that I’ve probably just created a position even less
popular than before! What’s life without a few windmills to tilt at?

In Chapter 5: Death and Religion in the Bronze Age (2000-600 BC)
O’Brien covers the same time period as in the previous chapter, but instead
looks at the evidence for the funerary rituals and related evidence. He gives
excellent accounts of Food Vessel Burials, with brief case studies of
Ballyenahan, Moneen, and Curraghbinny. This is followed by the Urn Burials and
cremation cemeteries. The text is, in this section more than others, enhanced
by a beautiful combination of modern photographs of the pottery vessels, along
with a number of the surviving sites, juxtaposed with older line drawings of
the artefacts, excavated sections, and site plans. After that, it’s on to an
examination of the stone circles. Here, the visual style is dominated by fewer
line drawings and more rather beautiful photographs, many displaying gorgeous
landscape vistas behind them. Again, after a general introduction, O’Brien
gives concise case studies of Drombeg and Bohonagh stone circles (both
excavated by Edward Fahy). This is followed by an introduction to those most
Munster of monuments – the Boulder-burials, again followed by summary accounts
of the excavations at important sites, including Cooradarrigan and Ballycommane
– both excavated in the 1980s by O’Brien. The same basic approach is taken to Stone Rows and Pairs, Standing Stones,
Cairns. A short section deals with the chronology of these monuments,
before providing a synopsis of Fahy’s excavations at Reanascreena South,
something of a hybrid monument, linking traits of both stone circles and
barrows. This leads to a general introduction to barrows generally and the Cork
examples in particular. This is followed by an all too brief synopsis of
O’Brien’s excavation of the magnificent site Knockatreenane. In the Crossing to the Dark Side segment,
O’Brien is unconvinced about claims of lunar alignments relating to the wedge
tombs, stone circles and related monuments. He baldly states that ‘These ideas
had no place in the thinking of Bronze Age people, for whom the orientation of
a wedge tomb or stone circle was a religious imperative involving an observance
of the setting sun in the darker months of the year’. Instead, he argues for a
much more general association – common to many ancient societies – of a
connection between the setting sun and the land of the dead to the west. This
is an association strengthened in observable alignments on the winter solstice
at Drombeg and on the equinox at Bohonagh. In particular, O’Brien draws out the
incidence of quartz as a ‘stone of light’ at many of these sites, from the
scatter of pebbles at Knocknakilla, to use of large stones at the Ballycommane
boulder-burial. I would take issue with O’Brien on one point of this
discussion, specifically his use of the term ‘primitive societies’ (p. 194).
This is not merely a lefty, politically correct affectation on my part, but a
genuine appreciation that any society that was ‘aware of the yearly cycle of
the sun, and … held gatherings and rituals to celebrate solar events, such as
the midwinter and midsummer solstices and the autumnal and vernal equinoxes’
cannot, in good faith, be deemed primitive. The chapter concludes with a look
at the multifaceted way in which artefacts can function in both a mundane,
household way, and also in a religious or ritual manner. He cites the recovery
of ‘foundation deposits’ at the houses excavated at Ballybrowney Lower and
Mitchelstown 1, etc. Other features
may be more enigmatic, such as the regularly recovered evidence of deliberately
buried portions of domestic waste that may have been ritually placed in the
ground. The chapter ends with a meditation on Continuity and Change in Religious Belief, 2000-600 BC. Here
O’Brien examines the social role of religious observance and how it changed
over the course of the Bronze Age. In particular, he directs the reader’s
attention to the use of wedge tombs over several generations, in contrast to
the stone circles, which may only have been used for a single burials. The
evidence is unclear as to whether this may be interpreted as a differentiation
in the role of the ancestors over time, though he certainly favours this
interpretation. O’Brien argues that there is also continuity between these two
site types as both may be interpreted as foci of sun-worship, specifically a
prototypical incarnation of the Celtic god Dagda. He also sees continuity
rather than change in the emergence of the stone circle phenomenon around 1500
BC, where this developing solar cult traced its roots from the wedge tombs,
eventually diminishing the role of the ancestors within society. O’Brien argues
that this can be viewed very much as an organic development of the incumbent
society, rather than any particular sudden arrival of new peoples with new and
exotic technologies and rituals (though some of this must have happened, too).
I’ve noticed something with the photos throughout this book and here is as good
a place as any to mention it. It’s the ranging rods in so many of the pictures
– these red and white poles that provide scale and appear in so many of the
illustrations. I honestly don’t know how to feel about them in this context. My
initial feeling was that this is a ‘popular’ book – a very good one, true, but
still the market is not for the professional archaeologist. For this reason
they should be out – no ranging rods – they spoil the pretty pictures! However,
we would be loath to crop a reproduced line drawing of a pottery vessel so as
to exclude the scale. Similarly, you wouldn’t do that to a site plan. So why
should the photographs be any different? Site after site in this book is
illustrated with photos of the sites and all with the ubiquitous presence of
the ranging rod. It was only when I saw the image of the ‘three fingers’ stone
row (Fig. 210 & the cover photograph on the dust jacket) without the pole that it struck me that this may be a beautiful,
artistic image in its own right, but it’s just not an archaeologist’s
photograph. I suppose it comes down to the feeling of comfort that comes with
the thought that the ranging rod has been placed there – just so – by an
archaeologist who has really thought
about that monument … or so I would have myself believe! Whatever the truth of
the matter, the plates – throughout the book – adhere to my central dictum for
archaeological photography: they should be both archaeologically informative
and aesthetically pleasing … and they certainly are!

We’ve still not left the
Bronze Age as O’Brien wades into Chapter
6: Warfare and Society in the Late Bronze Age (1200-600 BC). He begins with
an examination of changes in societal structure, population boom, material
wealth, and technological advances. This period is characterised by the use of
bronze for everyday tools, along with what is termed ‘elite metalwork’,
concentrating on sophisticated weaponry and items associated with feasting and
similar displays of wealth. These include cauldrons and buckets, along with the
well-known musical horns. In addition, there is the significant corpus of 66
gold objects of Middle and Late Bronze Age date known from the county. What all
these items show is that this period was one of growing social division not
just across Cork, or even across the island of Ireland, but is seen across many
parts of Europe. The concentration on the production of weapons (and their
reflection in contemporary rock art) is, in part, taken as evidence for the
emergence of a warrior elite after 1500 BC. Another aspect of this phenomena is
the increased prevalence of defended settlements during this period. As an
example, O’Brien revisits O’Kelly’s 1950s excavation of Carrigillhy, a small
oval enclosure defined by a stone bank, protecting a centrally-paced oval
house. The author then embarks on a brief introduction to the Irish Hillfort.
Only a small number of these large, elevated, enclosures are know from Cork.
They include one of known Bronze Age date at Clashanimud, and two of probable
prehistoric date at Caherdrinny and Carntigherna. This is followed by a
concise, but engaging, description of the site at Clashanimud, along with O’Brien’s
own excavations there. From here the author moves on to a more in-depth account
of Late Bronze Age weaponry, in particular the swords and spears. In the
closing section of this chapter, Cork and
the Bronze Age World, O’Brien examines the trading links that developed in
the period after 1200 BC in north-west and Atlantic Europe. Chief among these
was the demand for metal resources – be it in terms or raw materials or
finished products. O’Brien emphasises that to this must be added those less
archaeologically visible imports, including salt, furs, exotic animals, and
human slaves. In a final, and all too brief, section on the 19th century
discovery of the Mullagh Hoard (and Kilmurray Hoard from Kerry) that
demonstrates some of the earliest Irish contacts with the European Celts.

Chapter 7: The Age of Iron: Celts and Romans (600 BC – AD 400)
begins with a quick run through of the issues and current thinking about The ‘Celtic’ Iron Age and should be
mandatory reading for anyone caught guldering on about all things mystical and
‘Celtic’. For example, the lack of direct evidence for La Tène culture in Cork
(and other areas, too) may be taken to indicate the continued existence of Late
Bronze Age groups that maintained their independent culture and way of life,
before taking on iron working as a technology, if not all the cultural baggage
that went with it. This is an important distinction to make – a society can be
iron using, but not particularly ‘Celtic’ and the terms should not be confused!
This is a discussion that has had a relatively long life within archaeological
circles, but it is good to see the fruits of this thought and research brought
to a wider audience. In terms of archaeological evidence for this period, again
much has been added to the picture through the archaeological investigations
necessitated by the large-scale infrastructural projects of the ‘Celtic Tiger’
years. O’Brien provides excellent reviews of the evidence within the county for
settlement and economy, farming, iron working, and ritual, before concentrating
on an in-depth study of Iron Age Farming
in the Beara Valley. This latter section is based on O’Briens excellent
2009 monograph Local worlds: earlysettlement landscapes and upland farming in south-west Ireland (also
published by The Collins Press), and it again demonstrates the author’s ability
and commitment to bringing the fruits of professional-oriented academic labour
to a wide, non-specialist audience. In his summation of the Beara Valley
research, O’Brien returns again to the question of ‘Celticisation’, and notes
‘that there is no obvious ‘Celtic’ component in the material culture,
settlement or religion of Iron Age people living in Cork’. Similarly, his
question: ‘Are Cork people, or for that matter the Irish, Celts?’ is met with a
resounding ‘No’. This will, of course, come a no surprise to most archaeologists,
but may be something of a shock to the wider public and O’Brien is to be
congratulated for stating the case so frankly. This is followed by a summation
of the relationships between the county and the Roman world, the introduction
of the Ogham alphabet, and the settlement and economy of the period. In the
latter case, O’Brien provides a case study of Garranes ringfort, where the main
thrust of the occupation dated from the late 5th to early 6th centuries. The
chapter is brought to a close with the arrival of christianity in the 5th and 6th
centuries and a meditation on how the people of the Iron Age would have
perceived and mythologised the profusion of monuments from earlier periods that
they saw around them.

There are two things
that you cannot believe O’Brien on. The first – and most important – is his
taste in movies. It’s genuinely terrible. My feelings for the man remain
eternally coloured since the day he burst into the post-graduate study rooms at
NUIG to deliver his breathless review of AceVentura 2: When Nature Calls. ‘It’s brilliant!’ he said, ‘dey even play de
bongos wit his HED!’ I’m truly sorry, but this is a depth from which no man can
recover. The other thing that O’Brien cannot be trusted on is back in the
Preface to this book where he claims that the book was ‘written primarily for a
Cork readership’ – it may have been his intention, but it is simply not the
truth. If you have even the slightest interest in Cork’s heritage, are from
Cork, live in Cork, or have just heard of Cork – I commend this book to you.
But beyond that? Who should buy this book? The answer to that is, basically,
anyone who has an interest in Irish archaeology. It’s well written, it’s
engaging, it is (in the best sense) popular – without being bereft of scholarship,
or ideas for the more serious student. Throughout, I’ve attempted to highlight
the depth that new evidence from the ‘Celtic Tiger’ excavations have been
successfully integrated by O’Brien to form a ‘new prehistory’ of Cork. But
there is wider significance here too in that O’Brien has placed before us a
template that regional archaeologies – not just for a general audience, but for
any readership – must now be measured against. And here’s something I hadn’t
anticipated in reading this book – it makes me think that while I love and
adore John Waddell’s The PrehistoricArchaeology of Ireland and that the Revised Edition includes quite a bit of
new evidence that has come into our possession as a direct result of those
‘Celtic Tiger’ excavations, there is still room in the market for another
professional-level textbook. On the basis of what I’ve seen here, I’m actually
hoping that Billy O’Brien is the one to write it … though I feel it probably
won’t be dedicated to me.